


At Your Most Beautiful

by LeapAngstily



Series: I'll Follow You (always a step behind) [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: And Bonbon is there to collect the pieces, Bonbon loves Pazzolivo, Even Pazzolivo aren't above lover's spats, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, In a public venue, Infidelity (implied), M/M, Open Relationships, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riccardo and Giampaolo are in the middle of a minor relationship crisis and Daniele ends up getting pulled into it without meaning to – it is hard not to get involved when you are in love with two of your closest friends, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Your Most Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Related to [Separation Anxiety](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1169187) and [Casual](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1371940), but should work as a standalone as well.
> 
> Takes place (for the most part) during and after last Tuesday’s Coppa Italia match between Milan and Sassuolo, where Pazzo started while Monto and Bonbon were subbed in during the second half.

Riccardo and Giampaolo are arguing.  
  
Not many people realize the ongoing disagreement – or lover’s spat, as Daniele would call it – because they are still talking to each other in practice, even joking around like nothing had happened.  
  
Daniele thinks it is because no one else pays as close attention to the couple as him, but it also might be because no one else knows Riccardo and Giampaolo are a couple in the first place.  
  
But to Daniele it is obvious that something is wrong: Riccardo makes a point to spend more time with Andrea or Ignazio, while Giampaolo has started hanging around the other strikers, pestering Stephan over his new haircut.  
  
Daniele soon finds himself in the middle of the whole mess, because whenever Riccardo has to talk to Giampaolo, he strategically puts Daniele between them, using him as the go-between, hanging off his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
It is like Riccardo is looking for some kind of validation – making Daniele his accomplice without asking for permission – which is making Daniele increasingly uncomfortable, because as much as he likes his captain, Giampaolo is also his friend and he really does not want to take sides in this dispute.  
  
“Don’t mind him,” Giampaolo tells Daniele when they get a chance to talk alone, “He can be pushy, I know. Just go along with it for now, we’ll figure things out soon enough.”  
  
Daniele is not sure if ‘going along with it’ involves allowing Riccardo’s hand on his thigh when they sit on the bench at San Siro, watching the teams lining up on the pitch for the handshakes and the coin toss.  
  
“It’s weird, not being on the pitch,” Riccardo says with a wistful smile, giving Daniele a sideway glance before his eyes return to Giampaolo’s tall form, “Especially when he’s there. We get to play together so rarely. I miss it.”  
  
His hand stays right where he put it, caressing the inside of Daniele’s thigh absentmindedly. Daniele wonders silently if Riccardo is even aware of what he is doing, but he dismisses the thought immediately: Riccardo is always in control, especially when it comes to teasing Daniele.  
  
“Maybe you should tell that to him and not me?” Daniele tries to keep his voice level as he says it, but his breath still hitches when Riccardo’s hand slips a bit too close to his crotch.  
  
“I have told him, many times,” Riccardo says softly, the sadness in his voice so well hidden than even Daniele almost misses it, “This isn’t about communication. Why don’t you just focus on what you do the best and stop trying to fix problems that you’ve got no chance of fixing?”  
  
“What I do the best?” Daniele repeats the words uncertainly, because he honestly has no idea what Riccardo means.  
  
“Look pretty and let us grownups handle the adult stuff,” Riccardo is obviously holding his laughter as he leans his head against Daniele’s shoulder, his breath warm on his ear and his hand getting more inappropriate by the minute.  
  
Daniele wants to argue that Riccardo is both the prettiest and the youngest among the three of them, but the underhanded compliment actually feels kind of nice so he just bites his tongue and tries to focus on the match.  
  
Riccardo slides his hand between Daniele’s legs, conveniently hidden by the blanket provided for them to keep their muscles warm in case they are needed on the pitch. Daniele is half-hard even without being touched – this is what Riccardo does to him, has done since that first time Daniele saw him with Giampaolo.  
  
“You sure he’d be alright with this?” Daniele asks quietly, taking a hold of Riccardo’s wrist and pulling his hand away even though the ache in his cock disagrees with the action, “Pazzo’s my friend, I’m not gonna go about this behind his back.”  
  
Riccardo purses his lips, obviously displeased, but he pulls his hand back into his own lap, playing with a corner of the blanket instead, like all he needed was something to distract himself with from the beginning.  
  
“You know nothing about us, Daniele,” Riccardo says softly after a while, avoiding his gaze now, “We’re well past petty jealousy with him.”  
  
He does not say it aloud, but Daniele catches his meaning nonetheless: there is no way Daniele could ever come between Riccardo and Giampaolo – whatever Daniele does with either of them means nothing in the bigger scheme of things.  
  
The realization is nothing new, but it does hurt, because to Daniele it still means everything: Riccardo and Giampaolo – though mostly Riccardo – have brought out a completely new side of him, a side he had not known existed before this all started.  
  
Giampaolo’s goal is a welcome distraction where Daniele can jump up and celebrate with the rest of the squad on the bench, Riccardo’s words forgotten for the time being.  
  
Riccardo is smiling when Daniele looks at him, one of his arms thrown around a teammate’s shoulders on his other side, but then he bites his lip hesitantly and drops down to his seat abruptly.  
  
He has wrapped his arms around himself when Daniele sits down next to him again, his eyes trained on some invisible spot on the ground, a thoughtful – almost worried – look crossing over his beautiful features.  
  
A sudden urge to hug his captain takes Daniele by surprise. He resists the urge, but the imminent need to comfort Riccardo does not go away, so finally he reaches out to touch his shoulder, brushing his fingers against the bare skin revealed by the loose collar of his sweater.  
  
“It’s stupid,” Riccardo whispers, leaning into Daniele’s touch, “I miss him, Daniele, I really do.”  
  
“And he misses you,” Daniele replies, because it is the only thing he can say for sure – it is obvious from every look Giampaolo has given Riccardo since this argument first started.  
  
“So why’s he thinking of leaving?”  
  
Daniele has no answers: this is the first time either Riccardo or Giampaolo has mentioned the actual reason behind their problems, and Daniele knows it is probably only half of the truth even now.  
  
He has heard the talks of Giampaolo transferring away from Milan, but as far as he knows, it would not be so much Giampaolo’s choice as the management’s. But Riccardo probably does not see it that way, because it would not be the first time Giampaolo has left him behind.  
  
“Told you it was stupid,” Riccardo smiles bitterly, interpreting Daniele’s silence in his own way.  
  
“No, I get it,” Daniele argues quietly, moving his hand to caress the back of Riccardo’s neck, “But he wouldn’t be leaving you, only the club.”  
  
“I  _know_. That’s why it’s stupid.”  
  
For a second Daniele imagines what it would be like if Giampaolo left – he could be there to comfort Riccardo, to take his mind off Giampaolo – but then he pushes the thought away violently, because he has no power to do something like that, no matter how much he loves Riccardo.  
  
 _Loves…_  
  
Daniele has no time to ponder the significance of that stray thought, because Mattia is lying on the ground, the medical staff rushing over to him, and Tassotti is telling Daniele to start warming up.  
  
The first half ends with Milan still in lead and Daniele is subbed in at the beginning of the second. Riccardo offers him a wide smile and a thumbs-up from the bench when he glances towards him, wordlessly assuring he will be fine on his own.  
  
Of course he will be – he never  _needed_  Daniele for anything, he was just there, like an old safety blanket.  
  
They win, with all three of them on the pitch in the end. Riccardo hugs Daniele, brushing his lips against his jaw line, but then he disappears just before Giampaolo jogs over to them.  
  
Daniele can see him in the crowd, congratulating their teammates one by one, all smiles and hugs, like his earlier moroseness was all wiped away by the victory.  
  
Giampaolo gets no hug from Riccardo.  
  
Daniele, on the other hand, gets more than he bargained for when Riccardo takes a hold of his hand and pulls him into an unused dressing room once they are all free to go.  
  
The room is filled with cardboard boxes and stadium equipment long since removed from use, but Daniele has no time to study their surrounding any closer because Riccardo pulls him into a kiss the moment the door closes behind them.  
  
“Wait, didn’t I tell you—” Daniele cannot get any further before Riccardo’s mouth is back on his, sucking on his bottom lip until Daniele opens his mouth and returns the kiss, more out of instinct than anything.  
  
His body is embarrassingly quick to respond to Riccardo’s hands running down his sides, desire clogging his senses despite the guilt still trying to get a hold of his mind. Daniele’s hands settle on Riccardo’s waist hesitantly, the contact urging Riccardo to properly press up against him.  
  
“Giampaolo doesn’t mind,” Riccardo says against Daniele’s lips, cool hands slipping under his shirt, his tone so certain it almost wipes the worry away from Daniele’s mind, “We’ve never been completely exclusive –  _never_  – and you’re the special case even at that. He trusts you, the same as me.”  
  
The words fill Daniele’s chest with unfamiliar warmth, which is mixed with the fresh waves of arousal as Riccardo kisses him again, no hesitation this time, just demanding lips on Daniele’s and a warm tongue caressing his.  
  
And even though Daniele wants to ask if that ‘trust’ includes Giampaolo allowing Daniele to kiss his boyfriend while they are hardly even talking to each other, he cannot bring himself to say it, because this is what he dreams of when he is alone – this is what he thinks of when he sleeps with his wife.  
  
Daniele is in too deep to refuse Riccardo now, too deep to feel guilty for what they are doing.  
  
He pushes Riccardo against the nearest wall, taking the control of the kiss, pushing his tongue between Riccardo’s parted lips hungrily. Riccardo moans into the kiss, bucking his hips against Daniele urgently.  
  
“The door. What if someone—” Daniele is struggling to form proper sentences, his breathing ragged even before Riccardo pushes his hand into his sweatpants and wraps his fingers around his cock.  
  
“This room’s been out of use for ages – we’ve been here many times and no one’s ever bothered us,” Riccardo answers his uncompleted question, their faces so close that his lips brush against Daniele’s with every word, “Now stop worrying – I want you to fuck me.”  
  
Riccardo squeezes Daniele’s cock, his thumb caressing the tip, while he uses his other hand to push his own pants down to his thighs. He kisses Daniele one more time before pulling his hand away and turning around in Daniele’s arms, leaning his chest against the wall.  
  
Daniele is struck by the sight: Riccardo is offering himself to Daniele, looking at him expectantly over his shoulder, his bare ass pressed against Daniele’s front, rubbing against his clothed erection.  
  
“There’s lube and a condom in my pocket,” Riccardo says with a knowing smile, nodding towards his jacket he had dropped to the floor when they first walked in, “Better hurry, I doubt you wanna spend the whole night here.”  
  
Daniele scrambles to pick up the jacket, finding the necessary objects right away, returning to Riccardo’s side as soon as he can. His cock is aching inside his pants, practically twitching from anticipation.  
  
Riccardo laughs at his haste, but there is warmth in his eyes. It is the kind of warmth that makes Daniele think he might mean something to Riccardo after all, even if he could never take Giampaolo’s place – not that he wants to.  
  
Riccardo throws his head back and moans out loud when Daniele pushes the first finger through his entrance, trying to take things slowly even though Riccardo is pushing back against his hand demandingly.  
  
Their next match is in less than a week, so he cannot afford hurting their captain.  
  
“I’m not  _fragile_ , Daniele,” Riccardo reminds him, like reading his thoughts, “You can fuck me as hard as you like, I’ll be fine.”  
  
“And what if I like going slow?” Daniele asks with a small smile, using his free hand to turn Riccardo’s face towards him for another kiss. He twirls his finger inside Riccardo, the soft clenching of his body familiar to him by now.  
  
“Then you’re a fucking liar,” Riccardo smirks lazily against his lips, only for the amused tone to turn into another moan when Daniele follows his wishes and adds a second finger alongside the first.  
  
But even though Riccardo is right in a way – every second Daniele uses to prolong the preparation is pure torture for him – he is also wrong, because Daniele wants to treasure every moment he can get with Riccardo, even if it means taking things slower than either of them would like.  
  
“I’m just being practical,” he lies when he finally pulls his fingers out, pushing down his own pants and rolling the condom over his cock.  
  
“Practicality’s overrated,” Riccardo retorts breathily, taking in a sharp gasp when Daniele pushes into him slowly, the clenching of his muscles revealing his discomfort even though he does not say anything.  
  
Daniele manages only two languid thrusts before the sound of door handle turning freezes him in place. He would pull away, but Riccardo reaches back for him, taking a hold of his hip and keeping him in place.  
  
“It’s only Giampaolo,” Riccardo whispers in a constricted voice right in time before the door opens and Giampaolo slips inside, closing the door immediately behind him like knowing what was expecting him inside.  
  
Daniele suspects he did know, even before Giampaolo chuckles gruffly and says: “Figured I’d find you here.”  
  
Daniele opens his mouth to explain, maybe to apologize, but the words get stuck in his throat. Is he even supposed to find excuses? Or is he supposed to act like this is all normal, like Riccardo and Giampaolo seem to be doing?  
  
“It’s fine, Daniele – I told you to go along with his crazy,” Giampaolo tells him with a smirk that is half-amused, half-wistful, as he walks over to them, his eyes fixed on Riccardo’s face, “You better move before he starts whining again.”  
  
“I’m not whiny,” Riccardo argues softly, leaning his cheek against the wall, facing Giampaolo, smiling at him in a way Daniele has never seen before – a smile reserved just for Giampaolo.  
  
“Of course you’re not,” Giampaolo replies quietly, now close enough to touch them, not even glancing at Daniele even though the next words are addressed to him, “Daniele, move.”  
  
The order is all Daniele needs – he does not even consider  _not_  doing as Giampaolo tells him to – as he pulls back halfway only to thrust fully in again, earning a muffled whimper from Riccardo.  
  
“Harder,” Giampaolo tells him, and now he is stroking Riccardo’s cheek, caressing his lips with his thumb, like enthralled by the sight.  
  
Daniele adjusts his position, takes a hold of Riccardo’s waist to steady his movements, and finally begins thrusting into him with more power, his hips slapping against the firm buttocks with each fast push.  
  
Riccardo is pushing back against him shamelessly by the fifth thrust, moaning aloud by the tenth. Giampaolo has slipped his hand down to Riccardo’s cock, stroking him in time with Daniele’s thrusts.  
  
“I love you,” Riccardo is mouthing the words to Giampaolo over and over again, almost inaudible, interrupted by his gasps and moans between each thrust, “I’m sorry. I love you, Giampaolo.”  
  
“Hush,” Giampaolo tells him, his fingers on Riccardo’s lips, his eyes flickering towards Daniele quickly before his attention is back on his boyfriend, “Not now, not here. Let me just look at you for now.”  
  
Daniele adjusts his rhythm when Riccardo stops talking, his movements more shallow now, looking for Riccardo’s prostate with each push.  
  
“Try bending your knees a bit, change the angle,” Giampaolo tells him with a knowing smile, meeting Daniele’s eyes properly for the first time, and fuck if it is not one of the hottest things Daniele has ever seen.  
  
He follows the instruction and is rewarded by Riccardo bucking back against him almost violently, his whole body shivering against Daniele’s, a breathy moan swallowing whatever he is trying say – in the end he only manages to whimper out Daniele’s name.  
  
It is almost overwhelming for Daniele, because even though Riccardo is leaning his forehead against Giampaolo’s, even though he looks like Giampaolo is the only one that matters to him, it is still Daniele’s name he is calling.  
  
Maybe it is  _because_  Giampaolo is there: because Riccardo and Giampaolo are at their most beautiful when they are together.  
  
Daniele’s body is shuddering with his own need for release when Riccardo’s body starts clenching around his cock, and then the captain cries out and comes, his legs almost giving out under him.  
  
“Come, Daniele,” Giampaolo orders and that is the final straw that pushes Daniele over the edge – with one final thrust he reaches his climax, buried completely inside Riccardo’s clenching body, moaning out Riccardo’s name against his neck.  
  
Riccardo’s legs really do give out when Daniele pulls out of him, and he slides down to the floor with an exhausted laugh, leaning back against Daniele’s legs.  
  
“I could use a cuddle?” Riccardo says softly, looking up at Daniele – Daniele, not Giampaolo – and after receiving an affirming nod from Giampaolo, Daniele removes the condom quickly and crouches down to collect Riccardo into his arms.  
  
“I told you he wouldn’t mind,” Riccardo whispers to him, happily snuggling against Daniele’s chest, “Because he likes you too. You’re different from the rest. You see one and think of both – do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone like that?”  
  
“I think we need to save this conversation for another time,” Giampaolo interrupts them, looking at his watch impatiently, “They’re closing the stadium soon. And I’m still not quite done being mad at the little nympho here.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re only here for the great sex,” Riccardo retorts lazily, reaching out to press his hand against Giampaolo’s crotch only for it to be slapped away by Giampaolo.  
  
“No, I’m here to take you home,” Giampaolo tells Riccardo, rolling his eyes for a good measure, “And no, not for sex: we need to talk and you know it.”  
  
Riccardo pouts, looking up at Daniele who suddenly wishes he was anywhere else but here, where he is in the danger of ending up in a middle of another lover’s spat right when he though that drama was over.  
  
“I’d invite you over, but I think he wouldn’t like that,” Riccardo tells Daniele, rubbing his nose against his jaw affectionately, “Maybe next time, once we’ve kissed and made up for real.”  
  
“I’ll be looking forward to that,” Daniele answers, glancing at Giampaolo who smiles at him reassuringly, wordlessly confirming Riccardo’s promise.  
  
They walk through the empty corridors of San Siro, probably the last ones to leave the stadium.  
  
“Thanks, for taking care of him,” Giampaolo tells Daniele quietly, looking at Riccardo who is walking a few paces ahead of them, “I know he can be difficult at times, and this all must seem really weird to you, but he really needed someone to take his mind off everything.”  
  
Daniele wants to say he did not do it for Giampaolo, but then he realizes he would probably be lying if he said that – because while Daniele does want Riccardo, it is nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from seeing Giampaolo and Riccardo together, happy.  
  
“Will you be okay?” he asks instead, meeting Giampaolo’s eyes as they walk through the doors into the cool night air.  
  
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. We always are,” Giampaolo chuckles softly, his eyes filled with warmth as he looks at Riccardo, “I think I’ll keep him on his toes for a while longer, though. The wait makes the make-up sex just that much better.”  
  
Daniele silently wishes he could be there to witness it, but he knows not to push his limits when he has already gotten so much more than what he could have ever even dreamed of.

**Author's Note:**

> \- As all Pazzolivo shippers would know, Pazzo has, in fact, “left Monto behind” on two occasions: first he left Atalanta for Fiorentina in January 2005, only for Monto to follow him in the summer; then he moved to Sampdoria in 2009 while Monto stayed in Fiorentina until 2012, when they both joined Milan and were reunited. So it’s no surprise if Monto feels a bit put out with the possibility of Pazzo leaving again.  
> \- After numerous speculations, Milan Channel announced on Wednesday that Pazzo is staying, but as a Milan fan I’m used to being sceptical about these things. And even if he does end up staying for now, his contract is up in the summer, so he’ll probably leave then anyways. Personally, I’m gonna be super upset to see him go, but that’s how things are and we can’t do anything about it.  
> \- I have this feeling that Bonbon will end up staying in Milan until the end of his career – it’s not necessarily what I want (I’d prefer him as the team mascot tbh), but he’s been here for so long that I just can’t see him leaving anymore.  
> \- Monto’s birthday is on Sunday, so I’ll try to write something for the occasion during the weekend as well. Any suggestions?  
> \- Comments would be much appreciated!


End file.
